Scene 8.06 - Clark Gets It Sorta Right, Clarke One Gets It Sorta Wrong
INT. Enrapture/EXT. Hell's Well
(RONNIE, CLARKE, ASIMOV, RAMONA, HEINLEIN, WELLS, JIMMY and ROMEO are on the bridge. CLARKE is in the captain's chair, talking to SIMAK via intercom. The ship is orbiting Tellusia. They're all stoned, yet all seem very focused on scanning the ship's innards and Tellusia's surface using various methods adherent to their respective duty stations.)
CLARKE
Mr. Ford, are you sure there is no sign of the captain on the surface of the planet?
SIMAK V.O.
Half this data from that spooky moon makes no sense and the udder half shouldn't make sense! Aye, yet there's ne'er hide nor hair of the Captain or his queer little copy, Mr. Clark. I've run scan after scan using microwaves, gamma waves, xenon waves and isotope waves isolated from a tachyon-
CLARKE
Keep looking, Mr. Ford. Report to me in an hour or if you have any information on the Captain's whereabouts. Clark out.
RONNIE
We'll find him, Mr. Clark. People just don't vanish into thin air.
ASIMOV
Ip pear ently zey doo, Meem. Eye steel kinnit finned inny tiriss if ze Commodore, Meester Clock. Onbood sinzers see nuzzing. Midgic!
CLARKE
This is science, Mr. Isaacs, not hocus pocus. She must be on this ship, somewhere. Keep looking.
ASIMOV
Eye she hip we finned her. Eye vant tew gone anuuder zero-gee vide vither. Villy nice!
CLARKE
(Stops himself from lighting a blunt. Puts it back.) Excuse me, Ensign, "Zero-G ride?"
ASIMOV
Allah biv board, Keymander, Eye sweer!
CLARKE
Where on the ship we you able to circumvent the shrouding effect of the blackstar centrifugal transfer conduit for a "zero-gravity ride?"
ASIMOV
Vere else, sear? Ze jiffy toob!
CLARKE
The jiffy tube! Ensign, pass that joint to Lieutenant Roberts and come with me. As for you, Ensign Roberts, although you are not officially a crewman on this ship, I would like you to escort me to engineering.
HEINLEIN
Relax, Jimmy, you ain't in trouble, it's his way of saying he wants to spark one with you and chat. Go with him, I'm plenty busy here -- we'll grab breakfast in the mess hall when my shift's over.
JIMMY
(To CLARKE, at turbolift door, weapon readied:) Aye, aye sir.
CLARKE
Admiral, will you?
RONNIE
(Jumping into the lesser-grade captain's chair and yet replicates a monster Admiral-class blunt all familiar-like with a touch of the magic button, as if an old captain's chair is merely a training seat for an Admiral's chair.) Delighted. If you find Leah, don't tell her that her trick didn't go off as planned. (Lights it.) She's sensitive about those things... It's best to let me break it to her gently...
CU: TURBOLIFT
CLARKE
(In turbolift with ASMIOV and JIMMY.) Engineering deck.
SWISH!
CUT TO:
CU: CLOSING TURBOLIFT DOORS
REVERSE ANGLE
MS: INT. TURBOLIFT
CLARKE
Ensign Roberts, as Acting Captain, I'm officially placing you and all of your crew back on duty aboard the Enrapture. See Mr. Ford in engineering about getting you and the rest of the crew of the Archimedes transferred over to our personnel rosters and equipped with duty uniforms. Although your job aboard the Archemedes was that of Cold Fusion Technitian, I'm afraid we nearly have an excess of people qualified to fill those positions. However, your brother has informed me on many occasions that you were a quantum physics prodigy at the Academy. If this is true, we could certainly use your talents here, for we are dealing with technologies outside our normal understandings. We're in a quantum quagmire. (Produces two blunts. Sparks one, passes it.) We'll give you and your friends from the Archemedes a welcoming ceremony later -- for now, a new red shirt and a ceremonial blunt will have to do. (Pause.) While each of you do have the option to remain aboard in a non-duty advisory status, personally, I feel your crew would rather have something to do.
JIMMY
(Tokes.) Speaking for myself, I would be honored to become a member of this crew, sir. Rio talks about this ship like it's his home.
CLARKE
It can be your home as well. If you are anything like your brother, we could sure use you. He's a vital member of our team and you can be as well. All of the Archemedes crew. Discuss it with your shipmates, and please keep rank and position out of it. If anyone dissents, they need only speak to me, and I'll have them situated as a guest aboard the vessel.
JIMMY
I doubt anyone will want to do that, we're all on the same team here, Mr. Clark.
CLARKE
Very well.
SWISH!
COMPUTER
Engineering deck.
(The men proceed down a small dead-end corridor.)
CLARKE
Commodore Zale! Come out Commodore, the trick is over. (Pause.) Sensors may not be able to detect your heat signature, but the pungent perfume of your hemp-oil musk is a dead give-away. Come on out, Commodore. (Pause.) According to my ensign here, you frequent this hot-spot; giving out "Zero-G" rides like they were- (of course he knocks it, he wasn't invited) -and while I may feel tempted to go up there and personally look for you, know that I am not so easily -- Ensign Roberts, would you?
(JIMMY takes a gander, looking up the shaft.)
JIMMY
She's in there, alright. Looks like she's sleeping, sir.
ASIMOV
Vassat noyz?
JIMMY
She's snoring.
CLARKE
Wake her up.
JIMMY
Miss? Miss? Commodore Zale?
AZALEA
(Slides out of tube, head-first into JIMMY'S strong arms.) Whoo! Big muscle! Is it past seven already? Damn moon-lag!
CLARKE
You were asleep?
AZALEA
Nah -- I had another seizure while rigging this to- I was like so out of it and I had the weirdest dream and you were in it with Stuffy-Neck and you two were cruising around in this alien ship in a maroon sea! Or was it a moron see? Oh! The show! What time is it now?
CLARKE
It is two-two four-five hours. Your show is over. Your last trick completely bombed.
AZALEA
So whoa-! (Feels for cigarettes, has none. Turns to tube...) Okay then... ehya.. seizures kinda give me a throbbin' headache -- so run along and lemme sleep this off a little more-
CLARKE
Commodore, I must ask you to follow me to the briefing room where you may help clear-up a few issues-
AZALEA
Issues? Nah, that sounds too boring. Gotta cigarette?
CLARKE
No.
ASIMOV
(Offers like he's been waiting for this since she came aboard:) Eye git bibblegum!
AZALEA
Sweet! No thanks, though...
CLARKE
Commodore, you must come with us...
AZALEA
Nah. (Climbing in again.) Save it until breakfast; come back later... I got more dreaming to do.
CLARKE
(Nods to JIMMY to stop her. He gently does.) You may sleep later, for now you must-
AZALEA
Must what, Lieutenant Commander? (Cranky. No cigarettes. Steps to CLARKE.) Go with you or or you'll do what?
CLARKE
Commodore Zale, I have much on my plate right now and no time for discussion; you will accompany me to the briefing room; kicking and screaming if need be, but you will go.
AZALEA
(Angry, red-faced.) Oh yeah?
CLARKE
Affirmative.
AZALEA
You and these fellas?
CLARKE
Affirmative.
AZALEA
(Beat. Huff.) So you think you got the last word, huh?
CLARKE
It seems to be the logical deduction. For now, I am the final authority on this ship.
AZALEA
Okay, if you say so... (Long pause. She smiles, suddenly glowing in light.) Hmmm... (Pause. Smile.) Buh-bye.
(She vanishes into thin air; as opposed to thick air... Long pause.)
ASIMOV
Vit jist hippined?
JIMMY
She... vanished!
ASIMOV
(Thinking he's figured something out. Amazing how the brain works...) It mist bee anudder von if ear treeks.
CLARKE
No, Mr. Isaacs, I don't believe it is. (Hands him a Thai stick.) Check this hall for any trace quantum energy signatures and report. I'll be on the bridge.
ASIMOV
Oy vey! Yiss sear! (Sparks it.) Eye vill!
JIMMY
What about me, sir?
CLARKE
Report to Mr. Ford. For now, consider yourself temporarily reassigned as our Chief Quantum Astrophysicist.
JIMMY
(Almost salutes with the blunt in his hand, switches hands, salutes.) Yes, sir!
CLARKE
(Returns it. JIMMY offers the lit blunt; CLARKE waves it away, holding up his other one.) Dismissed. Ensign Isaacs, carry on.
ASIMOV
(Using a little Highcorder-looking thing extended from an opened wall panel while chonging on his massive Thai stick.) Yissear.
(Exiting, CLARKE blazes the second blunt and steps into the turbolift. JIMMY, toking, happily skips and jogs down the hallway.)
DISSOLVE TO:
ANIMATION STYLE 1
INT. Personarena (Purse-own"-ah-reen'-ah), Hell's Well, Maroon Room
(CLARKE 1 and VERNE are in a firefight, except the attacking armada seems to approach, unaffected by the volley of ordinance heading their way... a small blue dot approaches from the other side of the hypersphere of deep-purple space.)
VERNE
Their volleys are nothing but a light show... (Relaxed.) Is this a video game? This has to be a joke of some sort; yet I'm not laughing. My monitors show nothing substantial about this "armada..."
CLARKE 1
Affirmative. Captain, this armada is nothing indeed; our weapons have done no apparent damage; our lasers are actually passing through the enemy ships...
VERNE
Proto-phantasmic. Why? It doesn't make any sense. And they're not really hitting us, what is this, this blue wave; a phase differential?
CLARKE 1
No. That's unrelated. That's meterological. They're peppered all over this parsec. It's a regular weather pattern in a storm.
VERNE
Weather? It sure don't look regular. Is it rotating? Is that a... funnel cloud?
CLARKE 1
Sir, your Midwestern upbringing is showing. It is no surprise that an Oklahoma native would be inclined toward storm-chasing in the nebulous Personarena of the maroon room.
VERNE
Per-so-wha?
CLARKE 1
Personarena.
VERNE
I'm not storm-chasing. It's like a squall line and a thunderhead... in Newkirk, that means... You sure it's nothing?
CLARKE 1
Captain, my data in this foreign computer is erratic, however, direct, Empirical scientific observation tells me that it is but a common anomaly in these parts. Regular weather patterns that may only appear scary to a man who grew up on a farm...
VERNE
I didn't grow up on a farm, Clarke, I grew up in a trailer park. You sure you're right? Why does it keeps beeping?
CLARKE
I'm rarely wrong about these things, Captain. That "beeping" is most-likely a normal part of your heads-up display, perhaps.
(VERNE goes back to chugging and toking; annoyed at the blinking, beeping dot. He flips a switch and the speaker silences.)
VERNE
Ok. (Beat.) Why all these ships if they aint' real? Why go through the effort to create a ruse that isn't foolin' anyone? A trick?
CLARKE
Possibly, more likely closer to a phantasmic slight-of-hand; perhaps distracting us in one direction while hitting us from another-
VERNE
Yes! I've got to specifically know who is behind this! (Downs beer.) Clarke, tell me, is there anything unusual about these ships?
CLARKE 1
(Strokes goat-tee while looking in weird eye-visor thing.) Affirmative! All carry a unique grey-room signature...
VERNE
Grey? Well, what'dya know? Doc was right. Let's assimilate their energies; use them. Set for grey thirty-four, fire at will.
CLARKE 1
Aye, Aye sir... (Long pause.) Taking the doctor's advice is working; they're no match for grey-room quantum assimilation.
VERNE
Huh. It seems to be working, yet I got a queasy feeling in my gut... Hey Clarke, what is that little blue dot on my screen? Really!
CLARKE
Specifically, your "funnel cloud" is only a distant, static-electrical quantum-lightning storm, Captain, nothing more.
VERNE
It's quirky... not the usual... Clarke, apparently it's growing and it displays readings suggesting that it has gravity of its own and-
(Display and cutaways to phantasmic ships being assimilated. A little yellow light begins blinking on the dashboard.)
VERNE (Cont'd)
Clarke? There's a- it looks like a symbol for a gravity beacon -- I got what appears to be a massive gravity well half-a-parsec off our starboard in that storm you say is only nothing -- it's still a-ways away, but it seems to be approaching fast- what'd'ya think? Should we move out of its way? Maybe, like now?
CLARKE 1
I wouldn't advise it, we don't need to attract undue attention.
VERNE
Undue attention? Clarke, somebody already knows we're here. C'mon, Sport, plot me a new course... What harm would it do?
CLARKE 1
What good would it do? Why waste energy? The storm is dissipating -- see? Like I told you, Sir. I detect massive energy loss within the storm. As far as its momentary gravity surge, I've detected that with my sensors as well, Captain. Give it little thought -- it is apparently yet another distraction sent from our anonymous host. This area of space is called Hell's Well for a reason, Sir.
VERNE
I read massive entropy in the storm as well, but it don't look like it's gettin' smaller. Looks like it's comin' right- maybe we should-
CLARKE
It's an illusion. Dismiss it -- it's burning away. It's a common anomaly in this region, as common as lightning storms are on-
VERNE
(Seeing it as a mere million miles away:) Maybe we should at least change course a little bi-
(Suddenly, an invisible photon-plasmic-torpedo thing rocks their ship, violently pushing them off course, like a billiard ball hit by a planet-sized cue-ball of electric-blue energy moving faster-than-light-speed... or, in this case, as a newspaper boat lazily floating down a gutter's wash when suddenly hit with a fire-hose and chucked-over Niagara Falls. As they increase in speed as the time-space fabric bends around them, they are enveloped in a massive, blinding discharge of white energy, like the first explosion of a nuclear warhead. All turns bright blue, then radiant blue, then sky blue, then dark blue... To an observer, the blue light would follow them steadily in an unaltered straight line, never changing speed. Yet to them, they feel as if swatted immediately near-sideways by an unseen hand. After the flash of white, they feel as if they are accelerating from the dim, blue, funneled light.)
VERNE
Clarke! It's a hot potato! A blue bolt! It's got quantum charac-
CLARKE 1
We're buckling, sir! Hull integrity at... seventy percent and falling!
VERNE
We're gaining speed! What is this thing doing here? How?!? These aren't supposed to be able to even exist outside of a lab-
CLARKE 1
It's reversing polarity! It's a negative energy tachyon charge; fifty percent, sir!
VERNE
Hot potatoes! They're micro-quantum anomalies. We make them in fish tanks. Goldfish bowls! Yes, Clarke! What's its mass?
CLARKE 1
Sir? (Looks.) It can't be correct sir- my display is certainly compromised-
VERNE
No! No! What's the entire mass of the storm read? Clarke One?
CLARKE 1
It keeps reading... 17 nanograms...
VERNE
Seventeen nanograms?
CLARKE 1
I know... I must be reading this... "Spanglish" incorrectly, sir. It isn't that small -- it cannot be!
VERNE
No! It could be from blackstar crystals. It could be manufactured! Yes! It is! It is! Clarke! Grey-room over pi. Ride the wave!
CLARKE 1
Sir?
VERNE
I dunno- yes!
(He enters numbers into the computer and throws a small lever and suddenly the ship violently careens, sending beer, pretzels and an open, zero-g-tolerant stash tray flying against the hard metal of the ship.)
VERNE (Cont'd)
Ufgh! Common anomaly, my ass!
CLARKE 1
Captain! Brace yourself! A secondary discharge is imminent!
(Into another direction- THUD!)
VERNE
(Cradles jaw from hitting face-first into the box with the signal flares.) Tell me something I don't know! We're approaching the speed of light -- if we don't slow down, we'll be pulverized by the Avrogardo Shock Wave when we try to move inside the ship-
CLARKE 1
Negative! The ship appears to be slowing... my dials are moving much...
VERNE
No, no! It isn't! It's relative to our consciousness. The Universe will slow down for us but we'll be long ripped apart by then...
CLARKE 1
(Is that a bead of sweat on his normally-uncrinkled brow?) Fifteen percent sir! We're hit hard! We're falling out of this relative -- quantum impact with the energy wave is imminent!
VERNE
The wave... (Punches a button and is illuminated in red.) Set your corresponding Q-G for pi over zero, Clarke, do it! Red room!
CLARKE 1
(Leaning in:) Red? Captain, I realize we're about to die, yet I hardly think that suicide is-
VERNE
(Eyes him directly, looking back, pleading:) Clarke One, don't question me, not now-
CLARKE 1
Yessir-
VERNE
(Tokes, fiddles with some messed-up-lookin' switches, dials, sliders, levers, rockers and buttons.) Punch it! Brace for impact!
CLARKE 1
(Over rising cacophony of the ship approaching light speed:) Captain! I'm sorry! I was- I was wrong! I'm sorry -- I've killed us!
VERNE
(Noticing CLARKE 1 is not enveloped in a red aura as well...) Do it! Do it now!
(CLARKE 1, at the quantum generator's control panel, flips a cover and punches a big glowing-red button. Everything turns red.)
MS: Ship on tsunami wave
(The ship gets caught in the gravity well and slows, compressing and stretching space and time about them. Space goes red, expanding color from the small ship, like watercolor immersing itself inside a moist, white, virgin, cottony, 150 lb., hot-pressed sheet of paper. That's as racy as I can describe it. Stay tuned...)
MS: COCKPIT
VERNE (Cont'd)
(Pulling big lever, invites CLARKE 1 to assist, which he does.) Hard to star-board, Clarke, help me!
(He does. They are both sweating now. A rising whine and buckling of the hull is heard and glass cracks and still they push the large lever with all their might. SHER-RICK! THUD-BUM! They fall to the floor as the lever snaps. The ship careens violently port-side, spinning faster and faster, sending everything, to include the duo, outward toward the walls of the fragile ship.)
MS: Spinning ship spiraling down a cosmic whirlpool, gaining speed...
VERNE and CLARKE 1
Aaaaaahhhhhh!
FTB